Chiaroscuro
by Minx of Lynex
Summary: It was over, he repeated to himself again and again. He knew that it wasn't truly over however. Blaise-centric. Rated T.


**A/N:** This is my first non-pairing story that I've actually completed. I hope that everyone likes it! :)

{C}

Ridges and bumps in the plush material dug into his back as Blaise laid himself out across the floor in the living room of Zabini Hall. Standing in the doorway was his mother, leaning against the door frame watching her son with sad eyes.

She watched as her son dirtied the carpet with his soiled clothing, covered in soot and grime. Marisol's unvoiced complaint was swallowed and after continued silence from her son, she nodded in understanding before walking from the room. It was too soon, she realized.

As the matriarch of the family left him to his thoughts, Blaise rolled onto his side, staring into the empty hearth of the fireplace. His caramel eyes slid shut, his dark eyelashes standing out against his tan skin.

_In a shower of ebony mist an unfamiliar Death Eater appeared at his side and with a shout of horror, he jumped back and out of the figures way. _

_From beneath the black cloak a wand flicked in another direction and all Blaise could do was watch as the courtyard wall burst into thousands of pieces, exploding from within._

With a harsh jerk, his eyes flew open as he took in deep, slow breaths trying to calm himself down. It was over, he repeated to himself again and again. He knew that it wasn't truly over however. Nothing of this nature was ever over. It would always be at the edge of his mind.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he sat up as a grumbling bang echoed through the house. Shivers lanced up his spine, the sound all too familiar. As panic began to set into his chest, a brilliant white flash lit up the darkness of the room and he realized that it was just lightning.

Everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours, Blaise jolted from the thoughts once more; don't think about it. Laying back down, having entered his sedated state once more, he looked up and traced the intricate patterns of the ceiling with his eyes.

_Shrieking laughter followed him as he skidded around a corner, running at full speed through the darkness that was the Hogwarts dungeons. This wasn't supposed to happen._

_As he stepped into the light of the upper level of the castle, the clicking of heels that had been chasing him faltered and he dove out of the way of a frightening green orb of light._

Shuddering, the boy turned himself over onto his stomach, fingers running through the softness of the shag carpet. Rubbing his cheek against it gently, he took comfort in the familiarity that came with it. The carpet of the living room had been there since he was just a child.

Growing up as the Zabini heir wasn't the easiest thing in the world; it nearly rivaled being the Malfoy heir. With it came the responsibility of training to be the future head of the family, making sure that he upheld the ancient traditions, and doing his family and ancestors proud.

In that particular aspect, making the Zabini clan proud, he was certain that he had failed it tenfold. During the first war, his family had remained neutral, refusing to become wrapped up in either side, finding it petty to fight over something so trivial.

_With an urgency that he had never felt before, he climbed the mountain of hidden things hurriedly. Below him the roar of the fiend fire sent disturbed chills up his spine._

_Next to him a startled shout brought his eyes over to watch with a sob as Crabbe fell into the waiting flames. Renewed with vigor, he pushed Malfoy to go faster as they began to climb._

Caramel eyes crossed to watch as he picked at the edge of color in the carpet, where the grey met the blue. It had been in the middle of his sixth year when he realized that Malfoy was the errand boy for the Dark Lord; it had been his revelation.

Upon finding out and being determined to be his own person, to break away from the ideals of his family, Blaise had set out to help the boy in any way he could. At first it was just lying to deter their housemates when the blond would disappear to work on the cabinet.

Slowly throughout the next year, through Dumbledore's death, through the arrival of the Carrow's, through the searching for the Ravenclaw Diadem, he had become immersed in the dark that surrounded the Dark Lord's followers.

_Looking up from where he had missed the bottom stair in his haste, his eyes widened as the color drained from his face. Milky eyes stared back at him from a red tinted face._

_Scrambling back, bile rising in his throat, Blaise had to look away as tears trailed down his face. Choking on a sob, he yelled out wretchedly at the sight of her blood on the wall._

Now he understood why everything other than being neutral was so…forbidden. It was the love of the dark that had brought his father to his end, having died in a brawl with some Auror's at the demands of the Dark Lord.

When his father had met his last breath, his grandfather had completely withdrawn their family from either side of the war and remained neutral. With the knowledge of the tragedy, they had thought that the chance of Blaise falling to the dark was so infinitesimal.

Gripping the edge of the rug so tightly that his nails began to dig into his skin, the boy rolled back over with a bit back yell of anguish. After everything that he had been taught, everything that he had been warned against, he had allowed himself to fall in false love with the dark.

_The entire ground shook as Blaise watched the bridge begin to fall in massive explosions one after the other. A shout stopped up in his throat as Longbottom dove for the firm ground._

_With a yell the boy disappeared before moments later pulling himself up by the torn lumber around him. The gasp of relief was too soon as the Thomas boy fell in a flash of green._

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed, Blaise felt his consciousness start to slowly slip away as the exhaustion and weariness began to set in his bones. If he wasn't mistaken he hadn't been able to sleep or rest for nearly three months.

Every waking moment had been focused on helping Malfoy and in turn helping the Dark Lord. With a thought of decision, he made a vow that his part in the war would never come to the light. Upon leaving the decimated grounds of Hogwarts, his mother believed him neutral.

If he had to stay silent for the rest of his life, the belief would remain intact. The ones who knew his true alliance were dead or in Azkaban. Sighing heavily, he held the wand tightly in his grasp. With the promise in the front of his mind, he fell into a realm of haunted dreams.

{C}

**A/N:** This was for the Tentatively Titled Competition and the Deepest, Darkest Secrets Challenge :)

Also, the title Chiaroscuro means _'an Italian term which literally means 'light-dark'._

I had a great time writing this! I think that I actually kept it Canon :)

Thanks for reading and please leave a review before you go! :)


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